


Breaking Bread

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort Food, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Food, Gen, Spoilers for Episode 48 of Campaign 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 07:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17524148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: Making bread for these people, these wonderful, wandering, grieving and growing people he called his friends, seemed long overdue. There had just been so much going on, between slavers and ships and demigods chained beneath the sea. Tea had been easier, a quicker comfort for these people that rarely seemed to slow down.Caduceus reached into his bag and pulled out what was easily one of his prized possessions; the thick pottery crock that housed a sourdough starter that was generations old, fed flour and water lovingly by a member of his family every few days when he had been growing up. It had been tricky to carry it with him, and it was possibly a sign of divine favor that it hadn’t broken or spilled during his adventures.“I’ve been feeding you, now I’m asking you to feed us."





	Breaking Bread

_“Food brings people together, Caduceus,” his momma said as she measured out flour and added it to the bowl. “When people are sad and lost and grieving, a good meal can be just as important as a kind word or a gentle touch. And nothing goes better with a good meal than good bread. That’s why it’s the first thing I taught all your siblings to make, and it’s the first thing I’m teaching you to make, now that you’re old enough. Hand me that crock, please?”_

_Caduceus, who was shorter than his siblings had been at his age, had to stand on a chair and use both hands to grab the crock that his momma had requested. There was a smell coming from it, not as bad as freshly turned compost or a corpse left to decay at mid-summer, but something else, something different and weird. He wrinkled his nose. “Momma, it smells funny.”_

_“That’s how it’s supposed to smell,” his momma said as she opened the jar, giving the contents a stir before letting Caduceus see what was inside. To Caduceus it kind of looked like the batter that Momma used to make pancakes on special occasions. “That’s what life smells like.” She measured out a cup of the stuff in the crock and added it to the ingredients in the bowl. “Bread is full of life,” she said as she stirred the mixture. “That’s why it’s the most important part of any good meal. It reminds people that they are alive as well.”_

_************_

_“_ So what’s the plan?” Fjord’s voice, quiet and low, brought Caduceus back to the present. He had been thinking about dinner, and about how they were out of bread, and that had started him thinking about his mother, and home. He listened as he guided the horses, down the road away from Felderwin, his ears twitching.

“We have to find Yeza,” Nott’s voice had an edge to it, the sound of a person just barely containing themself.

“I know we do, Nott,” Fjord said. “But that’s not a _plan_ , if you catch my meaning.”

“It’s more of a goal,” said Beau.

“You’re from Xhorhas, Yasha. Where would they have taken him? Do you know? You have to know!”

Caduceus winced at the rising, hostile pitch of Nott’s voice.

“You are upset.” Yasha’s words were quiet as always, but something in her tone spoke of thunder in the distance, an approaching storm. “I will remind you that I am not a part of this war, and never have been. My tribe… had their own concerns. We stayed out of the north, away from the Empress and her armies.”

“So you say,” Nott grumbled loudly.

There was a creak and then a thump, the sound of boots hitting the road. Out of the corner of his eye, Caduceus saw Yasha walking away, her fists clenched, her shoulders tight.

“Nott, fucking really? Yasha? Come back! She didn’t mean it!” Beau called.

“She’ll come back, Beau.” Jester’s voice was bright, but it sounded as fragile as stained glass. “She always comes back.”

They passed several miles in silence, the kind of silence that occurs in the eye of a storm, with danger and destruction all around. Caduceus, for all that he seemed outwardly calm, was worried about everyone, Caleb and Nott especially. Nott had lost someone she had cared for very much, the father of her child, and whether they would be able to find him again remained to be seen. And Caleb…

Caduceus half-turned to look at Caleb, then remembered the enchantment on the back of the cart and turned back toward the road. Caleb hadn’t spoken since they had all been down in the basement. Nott blaming him, or people like him, for bringing this trouble upon Felderwin seemed to be hitting Caleb pretty hard. But it had started before this, hadn’t it? Caduceus had noticed Caleb’s discomfort in the wizard’s tower, and he had been arguing with Beau about something just a night or two ago. Different parts of the same thing, perhaps.

Caduceus understood the need for secrets, and for privacy. As the youngest in a large family, he had had precious little of both. But some secrets, left long enough, poisoned the ground they were buried in.

Caduceus cleared his throat. “I think we need to find a place to camp for the night. A lot has happened, and I think a full stomach, some tea, and a long talk, in that order might do everyone some good.”

Caduceus didn’t jump at the sudden prickle of claws on his arm. He had been expecting it. He looked down at Nott, who was half leaning from the back of the cart, teeth bared, her wide yellow eyes nearly glowing in the dark.

“We can’t just _stop._ ” The smell of alcohol on Nott’s breath nearly made Caduceus’s eyes water. “We’ve wasted too much time already! What if—“

“If they had wanted to kill him, he’d be dead already and someone would have found his body,” Caduceus said, as gently as he could. “We need to not panic, and to think about what we’re going to do next. No good plans are made on empty stomachs.” Caduceus took a deep breath and chose his next words carefully, knowing they would sting, hoping that small pain would cut through Nott’s fear and panic and make her understand. “You wouldn’t want your son to lose both his father _and_ his mother, would you?”

Nott gave Caduceus a long, hard look. “Fuck you,” she said, and let go of his arm. “Fine.”

They pulled off the road just before full darkness set in, and it wasn’t long before a fire was built and everyone was settled uneasily around it. Caleb had broken his silence for long enough to run his silver thread around the camp and set up the bubble for good measure, which Caduceus was grateful for. He would have endured the winter’s chill if Caleb hadn’t been up for casting his spells, but it was nice and warm inside the bubble, combined with the fire, and bread dough needed to be warm to rise.

“Thank you, Caleb.”

Caleb didn’t say anything, just sat down at the edge of the bubble, Frumpkin climbing into his lap and purring loud enough that Caduceus could hear it from where he himself was sitting. Caleb put his hands on his cat, burying his fingers in Frumpkin’s fur the way he often did when he was upset. Across the bubble, Nott sat by herself, holding her flask in both hands but not drinking from it. It looked like she was staring at her own reflection in the metal. Caduceus watched the two of them pointedly not look at each other for a minute before reaching into this bag and pulling out supplies.

Most of what Caduceus had taken from the Blooming Grove had been the things he needed to cook and bake with. His bag was full of knives and cutting boards, favorite pots, bundles of herbs carefully wrapped to keep them safe. There was tea, of course, and basics such as flour, sugar, salt and the like. He knew his mother’s bread recipe by heart, and measuring out the ingredients and mixing them together brought back memories of hundreds of family dinners and meals made for hungry mourners after the burials were done and loved ones laid to rest. Making bread for these people, these wonderful, wandering, grieving and growing people he called his friends, seemed long overdue. There had just been so much going on, between slavers and ships and demigods chained beneath the sea. Tea had been easier, a quicker comfort for these people that rarely seemed to slow down.

Caduceus reached into his bag and pulled out what was easily one of his prized possessions; the thick pottery crock that housed a sourdough starter that was generations old, fed flour and water lovingly by a member of his family every few days when he had been growing up. It had been tricky to carry it with him, and it was possibly a sign of divine favor that it hadn’t broken or spilled during his adventures.

“I’ve been feeding you, now I’m asking you to feed us,” Caduceus said softly. “And I thank you.”

“Caduceus? Why are you talking to weird smelling goop?” Fjord sat down next to Caduceus as he measured out a cup of the starter and poured it into the bowl with the other ingredients.

“Just thanking the yeast,” Caduceus replied as he began mixing the starter in with the rest of the ingredients. “Happy yeast makes the bread rise faster.”

“I don’t know what answer I was expecting, honestly,” Fjord said. “Anything I can do to help with dinner?”

Caduceus added more flour into the mixture until the dough became stiff. “If your hands are clean, you can help knead the dough.” It had always been his favorite part as a child, but he was more than willing to let Fjord do it. The half-orc looked like he had something on his mind.

“Um, okay. I can do that.”

Caduceus handed Fjord the bowl. “Just knead it until the dough becomes elastic. If you work it too much, we’ll have tough bread. Which isn’t terrible, considering we’re having stew, but still.”

“Gotcha.” Fjord took to the task with only slight hesitation. It was probably something he had never done before.

While Fjord was doing that, Caduceus pulled out one of the cookbooks Jester had gotten him, the one about mushrooms, and turned to the page he had marked with a sparrow feather he had found. It was for a mushroom stew, something hearty, perfect for the cold weather and for those with low spirits. He reached for one of his pouches that was filled with dried mushrooms, checking twice to make sure it was the correct pouch and not the one filled with his more recreational mushrooms, or mushrooms he hadn’t identified the properties of yet. He emptied the mushrooms into a bowl and poured hot water from his tea kettle over them.

“Can I ask you a question?” Fjord asked as he worked the dough.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Caduceus said as he skimmed the page, rummaging in his pack for salt and spices and the last remaining tomato of several he had purchased in Nicodranas.

“You asked your goddess about Vandren for me, which I greatly appreciate. Is that… is that a thing you can do just whenever? Just talk to her and get an answer?”

“Well, I have to meditate first. And sometimes she doesn’t answer me, which is fair. I’m sure gods get busy just like mortals do. But in general, yes, it’s something I can do about once a day. You want me to ask about Yeza?”

“Yeah, I mean…” Fjord poked at the ball of dough in the bowl with one finger, then handed the bowl back to Caduceus, who put a cloth over it and set it aside to rise in peace. “I don’t know how this works. Jester just talks to her god like I talk to you, and Uk’otoa just kind of shows up in dreams and visions and isn’t really big on complete sentences.”

“There are questions I can ask, and there are questions that the Wildmother doesn’t seem to answer,” Caduceus said thoughtfully. He had asked more than once over the seasons where his family was, and had gotten no reply. “But I can ask which direction might lead us towards our goal, if that would help.”

“It would,” Fjord said, There was something in his tone of voice that made Caduceus’s ears twitch.

“Fjord? Are you all right?”

Fjord sighed, running a thumb over one of his growing tusks. “If I hadn’t dragged all of you into my business, maybe we would have been here. Could’ve stopped this.”

“I don’t remember you dragging us anywhere.” Caduceus pulled out a small, cast iron pan with a lid and set it on the coals to heat. “I remember you asking us, and us saying yes.” He placed a hand on Fjord’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. Yes, maybe things would have been different if we had come here instead, but different isn’t always better.”

“Hadn’t thought of it like that,” Fjord said, and he both looked and sounded a little more at ease. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“Not at the moment, but thank you.”

Fjord had long since walked away and Caduceus was checking on the bread dough when Beau came over and sat next to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey there,” Caduceus put on a protective glove as he lifted the lid off the pan and placed the bread dough inside, slashing the top of the dough with a small knife before replacing the lid. “Come to help with dinner too?”

“Mostly I wanted to ask you something, but yeah, sure.”

Caduceus handed Beau a knife, a small cutting board, and an onion. “If you could dice this for me, that would be great.”

Beau set the knife to the onion and got to work. Her cuts weren’t terribly uniform, but they would do. “My dad didn’t like me hanging out in the kitchen. He said there wasn’t any need for me to learn how to cook. That’s what servants were for.” She laughed, sounding bitter. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask you…” Beau glanced over at Caleb for a moment, then back to Caduceus. “Keep an eye on Caleb, okay? I mean, I think you already are, you kinda keep an eye on everyone, all the time.”

“I try,” Caduceus said as he began mincing several cloves of garlic. “Is there anything in particular you think I should watch for?”

Beau started to dice her onion a little more forcefully. “He… fuck, I shouldn’t even….” She put the knife down. “Just… he might try to slip away in the night, or something.”

Caduceus nodded slowly. “I won’t ask you why you think that.” He took the cutting board with the diced onion from her. “He has the look of someone who has been running from his past for a long time without realizing that he’s just dragging it behind him wherever he goes.”

“Yeah,” Beau said. “Yeah, something like that.” She stood up, hands curling into fists for just a second. “I think I’m going to go for a walk. Maybe see if Yasha is around somewhere.”

“Remember the buddy system,” Caduceus said mildly as he placed a pot over the fire to heat.

“Hey Fjord!” Beau called. “We’re going for a walk!”

“We are?”

Caduceus found himself smiling as the smell of bread baking slowly began to fill the air. After dicing up the tomato, he put some oil into the empty pot and added the onions and garlic, which sizzled and released their own delicious smells.

Movement made him look up from the pot, and he watched as Jester went to approach Nott, then Caleb, both of whom flinched and shook their heads when asked if they wanted company. Jester didn’t push the issue, as much as he could tell that she wanted to. Instead her gaze settled on Caduceus.

“I smell garlic!” Jester said as she walked over to him and peered into the pot. She was smiling, but the smile wasn’t quite reaching her eyes despite her best efforts, and her tail dragged behind her through the dead grass instead of swinging in the way it usually did when she was happy.

Caduceus nodded. “It’s good for keeping away the _vampyre_ ,” he said, imitating the merchant who had sold him some very expensive garlic.

Jester giggled, and her tail perked up slightly. “That was fun, shopping with you in Zadash.”

_“_ It was a good day,” Caduceus agreed, adding some flour to the pot before stirring the contents and adding the tomato and the spices.

“The beach was fun too,” Jester said. “And seeing my Momma.” She sat down next to Caduceus. “And bees.”

“Hello bees,” Caduceus said as he added the mushrooms to the pot, letting them cook for a few minutes before adding the water the mushrooms had rehydrated in and the rest of the ingredients. Now all he had to do was wait for the bread to finish baking and let the stew, well, stew.

“And having tea with you and Yasha on the deck of the ship was kinda fun, even if it was kind of sad too.” Jester leaned her head against Caduceus’s side and after a moment Caduceus put his arm around her.

“I just want everyone to be happy again,” Jester said in a whisper so soft that Caduceus almost didn’t hear it. “Can we just skip to that part?”

Caduceus gave her a little squeeze. “I’m afraid not. We just have to help our friends the best we can in the meantime.” He laid a hand on the book in his lap. “And part of that is keeping them well fed. Thank you again, Jester, for the cookbooks.”

“You are very welcome.” Jester’s tail thumped in the grass. “Maybe I could make dinner sometime? I mean, you’re _really_ good at making food, I don’t want to _replace_ you or anything—“

“I’d love to give you a turn,” Caduceus said with a smile. “As long as I can be your assistant.”

“Well of _course._ All chefs need assistants! And if we’re in a place with proper counters and stoves and things I can show you how to make _pastries_ , and they will be _delicious_ and everyone will be happy.”

The bread had just finished baking and was sitting, golden brown and perfect on a plate, when Beau and Fjord arrived back, followed by Yasha.

“It smelled too good to stay away,” Yasha said softly as she sat down next to Caduceus. “Plus I didn’t really want to leave. I just… I knew I would say the wrong thing, if I stayed.”

There was a sound from the far edge of the bubble, a sort of gasping, hitching sound. Everyone looked up.

Nott was hunched over, shoulders shaking, her forehead resting on her knees. “I’m sorry,” she said through tears. “I’m sorry, I know I said awful things, I know _I’m_ awful, I’m just so _scared_. I’d rather be back in the manticore’s lair, or facing down a dragon, or under the ocean again! I _hate_ this!”

It was Caleb who moved first, crossing the space between them and going to his knees to pull Nott close to him.

“You are not awful,” Caleb whispered. “I will fix this. _We_ will fix this. I promise. Even if that means…” Caleb trailed off and bowed his head over Nott.

“Fuck yeah we’ll fix this,” Beau said, joining the hug.

“No matter what it takes,” Fjord said as he slung his arms around Beau and Caleb.

“We’ll solve the case of the missing alchemist!” Jester said as she squeezed under Caleb’s arm to hug Nott.

Yasha didn’t say anything, but there was a far off rumble of thunder as she put her arms around Jester and Beau.

Caduceus, who had always been the shortest one in his family, found out that his arms were just long enough to hug everyone, though he had to stretch a little. He tried to put as much comfort and warmth as he could into that embrace, almost as if it was a prayer. Maybe it was.

Someone’s stomach growled and just like that, the tension broke, and so did the hug as everyone laughed. Soon bowls of stew were being passed around and Caduceus only smiled when Beau gave Nott some of her pocket bacon to crumble into hers. The stew was rich and flavorful, the bread warm and firm with just a bit of a tang to it. Later there would be tea and talk, tears and plans. Later still would be pain and triumph, things found and lost, but every member of the Mighty Nein who was present that night would remember that meal fondly for the rest of their lives, and the scent of fresh baked bread would always make them think of each other, of family, and of a moment of perfect comfort.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's making mushroom stew tomorrow and has been wanting to bake bread all week?
> 
> Last episode was A Lot, and I had been planning a cooking fic since the *second* that Jester gave Caduceus the cookbooks. I had originally thought to set it outside the main conflict, but I wanted to write *something* about Nott before Thursday's episode. I have no idea what we're in for, and I couldn't be more delighted or terrified.
> 
> I'm angel-ascending on Tumblr and angel_in_ink on twitter if y'all want to stop by and say hi!


End file.
